


First in a Century

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fact that his first date in all these years was with Jo Martinez made Henry startlingly aware that he had regressed into a bashful schoolboy in the face of such a daunting task as dating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First in a Century

**Author's Note:**

> Set somewhere in the pretty distant future, because if Mortinez happens at all, it's gonna be ssssssllllooooowwww. Also implied here that he has already given up his secrets.
> 
> I do not own _Forever_. Thank you all for reading~

Henry swore that, as soon as he got home, he was going to let out a deep sigh of relief. For not only had the night gone fine, it had actually been, well, good. It had bypassed good, in fact, and yes, he knew that it was a little cynical to think that it might not have, but, with his track record... it might not have.

"Well, Henry..." Jo started.

"No," Henry interrupted, closing the car door behind him softly. "You have to allow me to walk you to the door, at the very least. I may not be able to provide you with a ride, but I did plan to go by the book as much as possible."

Jo rolled her eyes, but in a playful manner.

Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, her hair falling around the emerald green scarf that Henry had put so much thought into buying for her. Not that he hadn't gotten flack for it from Abraham - _"For crying out loud, Henry! Just pick one." "No! It has to be perfect. The only jewellery she wears is her ex-husband's wedding band, her colours need to coordinate as well as bring out her features." "It's a_ scarf _!" "Scarves make the man. Or woman." "It's not an engagement ring, Henry." "Just leave me to think."_ \- but Jo had seemed surprised as well as genuinely pleased with the small token of affection.

"The whole ten feet? Come on, then." Jo rifled through her pockets for her keys. "I would invite you in, but then it starts to get a little presumptuous," she said teasingly.

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Only a little?"

She laughed. "Yeah, didn't think you were that kind of guy. I know you're not, actually." She stopped at the door and looked at him critically. "So..."

Henry stopped opposite her. They looked at each other for a moment before he shifted and laughed softly, his breath turning to a cloud of condensation. "So," he repeated.

Almost two hundred and fifty years gave him no leverage on how to date.

It gave him absolutely no leverage.

Couple his trust issues with the memories of relationships such as Nora or Abigail and Henry realised that he had a rather large combination of reasons just _why_ he hadn't been on a date in years. The fact that his first date in all these years - a _real_ date, not a cut-and-run when he was actually feeling thirty-five - was with Jo Martinez made Henry startlingly aware that he had regressed into a bashful schoolboy in the face of such a daunting task as dating.

"I had a nice time," Jo said. "It was fun. I loved the restaurant, I don't know how I haven't heard of it until now."

Henry sighed in relief that she had picked up the conversation. His smile edged back into natural, easygoing happiness. "There are gems here, in New York," he said, glancing away from Jo and towards the street, "that I've found people tend to overlook in their hustle and bustle to get to larger, more populated spots. It's a shame, really." He looked back at Jo.

"We're definitely going to have to hit some more of these places on the next date," she replied. "I want to know what the other _Henry Morgan's Top Ten Underrated Places in New York City_ are."

Henry was already smiling when the words filtered through: next date. She wanted to go on another date. He felt like singing, and grinned goofily instead. Get a hold of yourself, Henry Morgan! Did you honestly think that, after knowing you this long, she would never speak to you again even if the date had gone bad? He shook himself and tried to smooth his expression. "I'll show you the sights, Detective- Jo, sorry."

Jo chuckled, and then, to Henry Morgan's intense surprise, she kissed him.

It wasn't one of those horrendously passionate first kisses, the kind that were on daytime soap operas that Abe occasionally watched ( _"Must we, Abe?"_ ), nor did it speak of invitation or expectation of anything further, both of which Henry was infinitely grateful for. It was more of a brush of their lips, the soft press of nerve endings against nerve endings, over in a flash before Henry had time to do more than stand on her doorstep and look for, all the world, poleaxed.

"Goodnight, Henry." Jo smiled at him and let herself into the house, closing the door behind her without another word.

Henry exhaled in a rush. He wasn't aware that he had stopped breathing.

Now not only did he feel like singing, but it felt as though every inch of his body was on fire, stuck in an awkward phase between backwards excitement and the craving of comfort in another's touch. He pressed his gloved fingers against his lips for a brief instant and remembered how it felt to love and be loved in return. He did love her. He didn't know when it had happened, but simple friendship with complex layers of trust over the past year and a half had made it so. He breathed out again, and dropped his hand.

He laughed out loud as he turned and strode off of Jo's porch, feeling exhilarated. The walk home would be a brisk one, but it would give him time to languish in the night's events, from dinner and the theatre production right up until just stepping off of her porch. Hopefully the colour in his cheeks would be less noticeable, or more explainable by the cold by the time he got home.

Two short horn honks distracted him from his thoughts. He glanced across the street in habit and his eyes fell on a car he knew too well, and the elderly man waving out of the window.

". . . _Abraham?_ "

"Come on, Henry!"

Henry pressed his lips into a firm line and crossed the street, sidling up to the driver's side window. "What _are_ you doing here?" he hissed.

"I came to pick you up," Abe said simply.

"I didn't say that I wanted to be picked up," Henry replied, and tried to keep the rebellion out of his tone.

"Did you have a nice night?" Abe's eyes were twinkling in the murky half-light cast by the nearby street lamp. He had been watching them, the sneak! Henry was struck with a sudden, irrational fear that his son had followed him all over New York as he taken Jo out.

He thought he was starting to blush, which was ridiculous. ‘Starting to’ not being relevant, due to the kiss under the porch that had already warmed his cheeks, but his face felt warmer still. He stooped down to window level. "I'm walking," he said pointedly, and straightened up.

"Henry, get in the car."

"I'm not getting in the car." Henry stuck his hands in his pockets and commenced walking.

The vehicle crawled alongside him. "Oh, come on, it's not like I get to do this every day."

"You're behaving like a child," Henry muttered, and then snapped his attention to Abe and pointed. " _Don't_ say it." He could practically hear the thought in Abe's mind: _I_ am _your child_.

"Get in the car, _dad_."

"Abraham..." Henry clenched his hands into fists and then sighed. "Very well. We are not discussing my date," he warned, going behind the car to open the passenger door. "In any way or form."

They didn't. But Abe played jazz music over the radio and Henry had to put up with a little sly smile on his face the entire way home. Henry sat, back straight, with his hands on his knees and stared out the window. He tried to drown out both things, and focus on the next date.

"You could have her over next time," Abe said absently. "Save money on gas."

Henry wanted to roll his eyes, and did, but he ended up smiling despite his embarrassed irritation, and shook his head in mock disappointment while Abe smiled on next to him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (And Jo's watching from the window as a surly looking Henry pointedly strides away from a grinning Abe who's driving the car next to him, trying to get him to get in. Shh. Just allow your mind to picture it.)


End file.
